Dear Brooklyn.

Dear Brooklyn,

Today marks one whole month since we lost you. I'm still not used to you not living in my belly. I'm still having a hard time believing that this is something we really went through. 

I hope you know how incredibly much I love you. I hope you can feel it and I hope you never forget it. I feel like I failed you in so many ways. I wasn't able to protect you like a mommy should. I hope you know that I would have done so much different if I had known. Even just to try to change things.

Sometimes I worry that Heavenly Father took you from me because he didn't think I could handle you being different. That scares me. But I do know one thing--I'd love you all the same regardless. I hope you know that.

I'm slowly starting to accept that I may never have all the exact answers that I want. I've realized that answers won't bring you back. I'd still like to know why all this happened, but I'm beginning to be okay with not knowing everything. I know that constant searching doesn't help anything.

Daddy and I had a nice lady we know confide in us about how she lost her baby when she was 6 months pregnant, too. That was 40 years ago, and she told us how in those days, they did things a lot differently in the hospital. She never got to see her baby, she never got to hold her baby, she never got to bury her baby. She never got to say goodbye. She told us she was thankful to be able to come to your funeral and go through this with us, she said she felt like she got some closure of her own. 

I'm so grateful that I got some time with you, even if it was after your little spirit was already gone. I'm grateful for those kisses I got to plant all over your sweet little face. I'm thankful I have pictures to always remember you by. I'm thankful for that little grave a mile down the road that I can visit and decorate for every holiday (yes, I'm going to be one of those moms. Easter is coming soon baby girl!). As heartbreakingly hard as it was to say goodbye to you, I'm glad I had the opportunity to.

I know you've found Papa up there. I hope you two are spending plenty of time playing Airplane and Horsey, and I'm sure he's introducing you to all his favorite weird things, like Vienna Sausages and Matlock. Make sure you give him plenty of snuggles for all of us here and let him know how much he really was loved, too. 

I'd like you think you're going to be up there helping our Heavenly Father handpick your future siblings. Make sure he sends us lots of them, I've got quite a bit of love to share. I know you do, too. Won't it be fun to have a big family with plenty of brothers and sisters to play with and teach when we're all reunited one day? I know you're such a smart girl, Brookie. I can't even begin to imagine all that you know now. I'm glad we have such a special little angel watching over us. 

I don't think a day will ever go by where I won't miss you. Nobody can understand how badly I want you in my arms. But I know it will happen. Last Sunday in church, I shared my testimony (I hope you're proud of me, I've always been too scared to before...plus, I sound like a man when I'm choking back tears). I said that I had no idea how people go through these kinds of things without the gospel. I really don't understand. How badly must it hurt not knowing what happens after we die, if we'll ever see each other again? I said that I believe God brought the church to me because he knew what was laid ahead of me and he knew that I'd need it. I really do need it. I'm so glad I have those answers, at least. I'm glad I know where you are and what you're doing. I'm glad that I know I'll see you again and that I'll get the opportunity to raise you and be with you forever.

I love you so so much Brooklyn, and I miss you more than anything. I hope I can make you proud, and I hope that I can be as good of a mommy as you deserve. Please watch over us down here. Things are still hard and I know they will be for a long time. Please, please know that I'll love you, always & forever, no matter what. You're my perfect girl and you always will be. 

Love,

Mommy

an update.

We've been having a hard time getting life back to 'normal' around here.

On Thursday, I got a call from the doctor who delivered Brooklyn in California. The results from her chromosomal test came back (I didn't even realize they were doing any testing) and it turns out she had Down Syndrome. A rare form of Down Syndrome, at that. Nobody had any idea. She didn't look like she had it.

Sterling and I have to get some genetic testing done to see if one of us is a carrier, so we can know how future pregnancies could be affected. My doctor here said that there could be a 50/50 chance of Down's in future pregnancies if one of us is a carrier. We don't know anything for sure and we won't until we get the testing done and see a genetics counselor, so I'm trying (and kind of failing) to not get too worked up over it yet. There's always the chance that it was a completely random, isolated event, also. And no, the Down's shouldn't have caused the labor or abruption. Dr. Jones (in CA) said there's always the small chance it could have, but there's no scientific evidence finding a connection between the two. Both my doctors still attribute it to stress.

On another note, I've been having a lot of pain in my right abdomen all week. I finally called my doctor Thursday and he had me come in right away. I had an extensive ultrasound done yesterday, but I won't hear back until Monday. In the meantime, I'm staying drugged up on Percocet and extra-strength ibuprofen.

normalcy.

Friday marked two weeks since our sweet girl passed in and out of our lives. In some ways it feels like it's been forever, and in others it seems like we just booked our last-minute flights to California yesterday.

It was my first day of being able to drive again since I had a csection. Brynleigh and I went to the cemetery and visited baby sister. What do people normally do when they visit a grave? I just want to talk to Brooklyn and tell her everything I never got a chance to say. I know I could do that at home in my bed and she'd hear me all the same, but it just doesn't feel the same.

Life is slowly getting more normal-ish. Sterling and I went to the temple Saturday morning, then out on a double date with his sister that night. It was a good day, it really was. Every day has more normalcy in it, like grocery shopping and paying bills. We're going to Nashville in a little over two weeks for my sister's wedding, so I need to do some things in preparation for that still. The sympathy cards have slowed and I can browse Facebook (still quickly skipping over anyone's posts about pregnancy or newborns) without being angry that all these people's lives are going on as they always have or they're complaining about such 'hard' things in life like having the flu or having to work on a Saturday. My tears tends to come at small, random spurts throughout the day instead of sobfests before bed every night.

I'm completely aware that my emotions are going to be all over the place for awhile, but it still catches me off guard sometimes, even if I think I'm prepared for it. Driving by Portneuf Medical Center makes me sad because that's where she should have been born, healthy. Driving by EIRMC in Idaho Falls makes me sad because that's where I met my sweet Brynleigh and I want so badly to experience all that again. I feel guilty if I think I've had too good of a day because I don't want Brooklyn to think it only took me two weeks to grieve.

I don't want to be done grieving and I know it takes a long time, I just wish I could feel somewhat like a normal, fully-functioning person again. I wish I could have a little clarity about all this.